


Speak of the Devil

by RedRowan



Series: Daredevil Bingo [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRowan/pseuds/RedRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a superstition among the criminals in Hell's Kitchen: never say Daredevil's name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak of the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "speak of the devil" prompt on my Daredevil Bingo card.
> 
> AU: professors  |  Lent  |  Nelson and Murdock  |  sai  |  human interest story   
> ---|---|---|---|---  
> wearing each other's clothes  |  conviction  |  punch-drunk  |  scars  |  In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti   
> repeat de integro / of the law as it should be  |  taken in for questioning  |  WILD  
>  ★  
>  CARD  |  AU: serial killer  |  hearing loss   
> police station  |  passing the bar  |  grace  |  didn't realize they were dating  |  Foggy's Bloggy   
> AU: post-apocalyptic  |  jujutsu  |  speak of the devil  |  playing pool  |  interview   
  
_Talk of the Devil, and he’s presently at your elbow._ \- medieval proverb

If you work on a certain side of the law in New York, Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t belong to you. Over a year, now, it’s been the Devil’s territory, and anyone dumb enough to try to take it from him has paid the price. These days, if you want to do business in Hell’s Kitchen, you know that you’re just waiting until your number’s up and the Devil comes for you.

The trick is to get out before he finds you.

Or be Turk Barrett.

“Thought you were in jail, man,” Billy says as Turk opens a crate of weapons. 

“Yeah!” Jake says, already nervous for being in Hell’s Kitchen. “Heard that Dare-“

“Whoa, whoa,” interrupts Turk. “Don’t say it, man. We don’t talk about the double-D around here, OK?”

“It’s bad luck,” Billy says in Mandarin, cutting Jake down with a look. It’s Jake’s first time working in the Kitchen, he usually stays in Chinatown. “Everyone says he can hear it when you say it.”

“What, like Voldemort?” says Jake in the same language. Billy stares at him blankly. “You know, in _Deathly Hallows_ …”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Billy says. He switches back to English to negotiate the price with Turk.

“You can tell the lady that she can call on me anytime,” Turk says smoothly as Billy hands over the cash.

“She says that your business is always appreciated,” Billy says. Turk leaves them with the crates to load on to their truck, and drives away.

“They said Fisk used to do the same thing,” Jake says in Mandarin as they start loading the crates.

“What?”

“He didn’t let people say his name. You know, ‘Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself,’” he quotes in English.

“Is that from fucking _Harry Potter_ too?”

“They’re good books.”

Billy whaps him on the back of his head before they lift another crate onto the truck bed.

“Better off learning something useful, like accounting, or some shit like that,” Billy grumbles.

“Hey, it helped with my English,” says Jake, switching to English. “Mine’s better than yours.”

Billy mutters some curses in Mandarin that amount to “my dick’s still better than yours.”

There’s a sound of screeching tires, maybe a block or two away. Jake starts, but Billy shrugs.

“New Yorkers are shit drivers,” Billy says. They load the last crate, and climb into the cab of the truck. “See? Easy job. No Daredevil, just good business.” He pronounces Daredevil in English.

Billy starts up the truck, and drives away from the river. They’re in an alley between two warehouses when Jake sees it.

“Oh, shit, stop!” he says.

Turk’s car is on its side, blocking the alley. Turk himself is lying on the ground. Billy stops the car, and Jake jumps out, ignoring Billy’s shout not to. Turk is moving, his moaning muffled. Jake pulls his gun out from the holster under his jacket, but Turk is making panicked noises through his nose. He rolls over onto his stomach, and Jake sees the white ziptie holding his hands behind his back, and he sees the cloth stuffed in Turk’s mouth.

There’s a gunshot behind Jake, and he whips around, to see Billy dragged from the truck. Jake is on the wrong side of the truck, he can’t see what happens, then Billy drops to the ground, his face covered in blood, right in the beam of the headlights. Jake raises his gun, and there’s a sound of boots hitting metal, and Daredevil is there, crouched on the hood of the truck.

“Don’t move!” says Jake in English, but it comes out too high, almost a squeak.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen smiles.

Jake pulls the trigger, but Daredevil flips off the truck into the air. One of his clubs flies at Jake, knocking the gun out of his hands.

The last thing Jake thinks as Daredevil leaps at him is “Billy said his name.”


End file.
